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Willow

Thrashing Schwillow!
Thrashing Schwillow!
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Willow’s tale of rescue is, quite frankly, one of the stupidest things I have ever done in my life. It could’ve gotten me kidnapped, murdered or who knows what. One Saturday morning I was the first to arrive at the practice to open it up. I was in the back and heard a knock at the door. I came up front to meet a strange man. I opened up and asked how I could help him, and he said he worked at the Johnson Ferry Baptist church across the street as a maintenance man, and they found a bunch of kittens. He said they got loose in the church and in the church parking lot, but he caught one. He said it was in the back of his van and acting CRAZY! I tried to ask how big the cat was, etc. but only got unhelpful answers. I promptly went to the back, grabbed a cat carrier, towels and my Bite Buster sleeves and figured I would catch this little bugger myself.

Could she have been more precious?
Could she have been more precious?

Little bugger she was. Very little. Wee in fact! The man opens the back of his WINDOWLESS, solid white, serial killer van with NOT A THING inside it except Willow, clinging to the grate that divided the back of the van from the driver’s area. What do I do? Oh, I jump right in without even thinking and then yell at the guy to “Shut the door!!” behind me, ya know, like he was not doing it fast enough and we wouldn’t want her to escape! Hindsight. So, he closed me in said windowless van, and I secured said vicious, CRAZY kitten (barely one pound, pouring green boogers from her eyes and nose), got her in a carrier, knocked, and he let me out. Thankfully, he let me out! In that instant I realized what an unsafe and stupid thing I just did without a soul in sight to know what had happened. But, got the kitten and the rest is history!

The photo I sent to Jake, preparing him for what we were about to "foster".
The photo I sent to Jake, preparing him for what we were about to "foster".
First carrier and car ride home!
First carrier and car ride home!
Third eyelids up, she didn't feel her best that day.
Third eyelids up, she didn't feel her best that day.

I had no intention of keeping her of course. We set traps and tried to help the church capture the rest of the kittens. We tried for over a week with zero luck. That very same week we had a good Samaritan take in a small grey and white kitten. He was the only one left of his family. They had all been living in a sewer pipe in a subdivision and animal control had been called to catch them all, the little grey and white one was too elusive, and they were not successful in capturing him. The complete opposite of Willow who was the only one caught in her group.

Willow and Soren became fast friends.
Willow and Soren became fast friends.
I used the Hashtag #mustachesandmittens for obvious reasons.
I used the Hashtag #mustachesandmittens for obvious reasons.
They did everything together. Always best to raise kittens in pairs or the whole family!
They did everything together. Always best to raise kittens in pairs or the whole family!
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I brought Willow home each night to foster until she could be reunited with her siblings. Have I mentioned that we have never successfully fostered anything, ever? Still failing! Hanging onto her for a few days turned into a manic mission to catch the rest of her litter so I could just keep the whole family! Afterall, gotta follow my own advice, I couldn’t bring a single kitten in here with a household of adults and seniors. After a week of completely falling in love with her, and being unsuccessful in trapping the remaining babies, we decided to adopt that elusive grey and white kitten as her new sibling. This, as you may have guessed, became Soren.

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I love this photo of them. Two little peas in a pod.
I love this photo of them. Two little peas in a pod.

They were fast friends in a matter of minutes, they both desperately needed each other after all. Kittens break all the rules and can often just be plunked together with some supervision and breaks and within days, they’re buddies. This could not have been truer with Schwills and Ren and what sweet pair they made!

Babies first stroller ride.
Babies first stroller ride.

Mammas’ switch flipped and she went right into “Mamma-mode”, it was remarkable. She would groom, nurture, cuddle and smack and bite them too! All the things they needed. Our “justification” at the time for this adoption was well, obviously the rescue story, I had to keep her after risking my life, but Hitch needed friends. All of his friends and wrestle companions had died. He was so much younger than all of our other cats, so we thought Soren could grow up to be his new bestie, and we were right, but at that moment in time, would you have guessed that Hitch was the MOST fussed up and put out by the babies?! We were blown away, nothing but hissing and spitting at their door. He was NOT the welcoming committee we had anticipated, but at least we had Mother to assist us!

A nurturing Mammas.
A nurturing Mammas.
Foraging lessons.
Foraging lessons.
Lined up for evening meds time. Take the time to teach them early, meds are delicious!
Lined up for evening meds time. Take the time to teach them early, meds are delicious!
Mammas cancer has started to grow here but she is still training!
Mammas cancer has started to grow here but she is still training!

They did integrate beautifully. These were the first babies I had the chance to raise since I had learned so much more about cats. They were clicker trained starting at just a few months of age, they were introduced to foraging from day one, leash and harness training-check! Cat stroller-check! We were going to do this right! I took them with me to work every day so they would learn that cat carriers and car rides are not scary and so they could get handled by multiple people. In fact, in that week before Soren joined us, I even kept Willow in my purse and took her to a doctor’s appointment! She napped the whole time, no one had a clue I had a 1.5 pound bundle of scrumptiousness in my bag!

Pic of her hiding in my purse at the doctor's office!
Pic of her hiding in my purse at the doctor's office!
So inseparable they even used the litter box in unison!
So inseparable they even used the litter box in unison!
In love.
In love.
Some pics are blurry because the little monkey never stopped moving!
Some pics are blurry because the little monkey never stopped moving!
I absolutely adore this series of photos!
I absolutely adore this series of photos!
She looks so over him!
She looks so over him!
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These two became inseparable lights of our lives and Hitch warmed up to them beautifully, eventually, once he got over the fact that he was no longer the baby! I would say they became a gang of three!

Willow and Hitchinson.
Willow and Hitchinson.
Clearly, they became quite close.
Clearly, they became quite close.
She shared her personal catio with her friends!
She shared her personal catio with her friends!

I don’t even know what to say, Willow had so much freakin’ personality and was a super star! Best clicker trained cat ever, she was riding a skateboard at just a few months of age! She was gorgeous and a supermodel social media star, she LOVED to forage and was excellent at it. One of her cutest traits was her super cute squeak, she chirped more than meowed, and she would give “air butts” from across the room!! She could be six feet away from you sitting on the kitchen table, you’d say her name and she would head butt nothing at all! Just the air! Or she would headbutt you or an object but just b-a-r-e-l-y touch it, an air-butt!

Just learning how to skate.
Just learning how to skate.
Sharing the board with Samson.
Sharing the board with Samson.
This girl LOVED her skateboard!
This girl LOVED her skateboard!

She was also a mighty hunter and a bit “Lassie-like” (“Timmy, er, uh, my gecko fell down the well!”). She would catch these damn geckos and bring them into the house from the catios. On more than one occasion, her prey got away from her. She would COME GET US TO HELP!!!!! No lie, it was amazing. One situation I can recall very distinctly, a gecko was stuck up under the master bathroom vanity. I start walking up the stairs and she comes running out of the bathroom chirping at me, spinning in circles, the fur on the base of her tail all puffed up (this happened when she was very excited) tail whipping from side to side (she expressed a lot of words wither tail) and she led me to the bathroom, one specific corner and sure enough there was her prey. Much to Willow’s dismay, said gecko was saved rather than pulled back out onto the bloodletting field. She did the same thing when one went under the washer dryer! Except this time, we had a guest, so I have a witness who saw that she “asked” us for help. Same thing, chirping, puffy tail, spinning in circles trying to take me over to where she needed me to “get something for her.” Absolutely remarkable.

Could they be any cuter?
Could they be any cuter?
Bunk beds!
Bunk beds!
Cuddling with big brother Simon!
Cuddling with big brother Simon!
Hanging with old man, Lefty! They spent a lot of time together.
Hanging with old man, Lefty! They spent a lot of time together.
Mammas, Wiccas, Willow and Soren. So many good teachers!
Mammas, Wiccas, Willow and Soren. So many good teachers!
Hitch and Willow.
Hitch and Willow.

My biggest regret was hiring a cleaning service when Willow and Soren were about 6-8 months old. I had never done this before and will never do so again. She completely changed and became super wary of guests, nose phobic and overall, just very skittish from this moment forward. I was always home to supervise so no one was nasty to her, but the noise and multiple people coming into the home just those few times changed her forever.

She communicated early on that she would like a catio outside this window.
She communicated early on that she would like a catio outside this window.
Her wish was our command.
Her wish was our command.
Did I mention she was also a master forager?
Did I mention she was also a master forager?

Then a few years later along comes Finn and Tonka. Things were fine until they were not. I have many photos and videos of the introductions going well, I even have video of Willow backing Tonka up on a cat condo and putting him in his place, but at some point, those tables turned, and he forever wanted to hunt her. It was a devasting change I had to cope with, we tried and tried for years to integrate him. Short version, if you are bold and brave and like to play rough, he is fine with you. If you are shy, timid, and easily charged and terrorized then he is a bully. No combination of medication has been able to change this in him, but by this stage we were committed to everyone, and this is why we now have “Willow’s Place” an upstairs catio daddy built just for her! Two cat wheels, one upstairs and one down, because she needed all of her favorite amenities, and she ended up spending the bulk of her days upstairs so we did all we could to ensure she had access to her favorite things in addition to time sharing and rotating cats around the house.

"My Daddy built this just for me!"
"My Daddy built this just for me!"
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One of the last tricks I was working on with her shortly before we lost her was to teach her to jump through my arms in the shape of a hoop. She was the first cat I had ever taught to do this, and she did so perfectly and beautifully for the very first time the morning of the day she died. I never had the chance to capture this on camera. Very sad indeed.

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Sitting up on the balance beam.
Sitting up on the balance beam.
Enjoying Daddy's scoop.
Enjoying Daddy's scoop.
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July 19th, 2021 was like any normal day. Willow would come flying downstairs, hop on her skateboard and ride it until she hit some carpet or a chair leg to stop its roll and then take her morning meds! This morning, however, we practiced our new trick, jump through my arms in a hoop. Best to do these things in the early morning hours when the house was quiet, she was less distracted and wary of life. We did our thing and I left. When I came home that evening I was sitting in the driveway for a bit talking on the phone with a client and answering their cat questions. Little did I know what was happening inside and little did I know if I had just come inside sooner….

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Jake more often than not does evening chores, canned food dinner, scoops the litter, does evening meds. He had done all of those things. I went upstairs to use the bathroom after my hellacious commute home to find Willow collapsed on her side in a puddle of urine on the floor. She was warm, right next to her food bowl, she had just eaten some of her dinner, took about 3 steps and died. I did chest compressions, tried to give her CPR, and was frantic. If I had just come inside sooner…I’ll never stop regretting that, not ever. Only just a few minutes and I may have been there if nothing else to hold her as she passed. Willow was only seven years old. She had not even made it to her first senior vet visit. She had no signs or symptoms of anything at all so one can only guess it was the silent killer, heart disease. Needless to say, we were devastated, and still are. I miss her every day, she was so special and so full of personality. She was one of my very bestest girls, trained by Mammas, and now she will not be here to pass the torch to the next generation. I also just hate that her life was so stifled by the addition of Tonka. So many regrets with this one. Some of them all you can think of is how you could have done better.

And it all started with a potentially life-threatening rescue on my part. And I would do it again without a second thought!

We miss you so much Schwillow!

She was precious beyond words.
She was precious beyond words.
So pretty in her special vest!
So pretty in her special vest!
Soren really misses his best friend and sister.
Soren really misses his best friend and sister.
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Filed Under: Muses Tagged With: Adopt cats in pairs, atlanta cat behavior, Don't Shop Adopt, dontshopadopt, Muses, two are better than one, willow

Sebastian

One of my all time favorite photos of this dog! Taken the very next day after we rescued him-so happy! Beware of Bash!
One of my all time favorite photos of this dog! Taken the very next day after we rescued him-so happy! Beware of Bash!

Sebastian became a part of our family after being dogless for a whole 13 months. We had been waiting and pondering about who our next giant would be, but nothing had stuck. One day, I got a call from my friend and past co-worker that the people that lived next door to the shop where she worked in South Carolina were moving. They had four dogs, 3 tiny ones and Sebastian.  Sebastian was not included in their moving plans which included downsizing to a smaller place with less yard; since he was so huge and had spent his entire life 100% outdoors, only the small dogs were coming with them.

I was sent a few pictures and videos so we could get a feel for his size and temperament around his people and other animals. He was definitely a bit of a wild card to bring into this house that, at the time was still chock full of cats. He had lived with a cat in his puppyhood, but that cat was hit by a car early on and was his only experience with cats.

One of only two puppy pics, but glad to have what we have.
One of only two puppy pics, but glad to have what we have.

He was not neutered, had never been to a vet, did not go for walks on a leash and had no training other than “sit”. He had NO SHELTER, when we arrived! Yes, I know he was a Pyrenees, but that does not matter, he should have had the option for shelter, they are tough, but not invincible. They said he had a doghouse early on but he wouldn’t use it, so they got rid of it. He had about a one-foot overhang around the roof of the shed, and he had dug himself a hole in the clay under their deck and that is where he slept. Clearly flea and heartworm prevention were also off the table. I remember when we pulled into the driveway I said to Jake, “I hope he is really big, what if the videos were deceiving?” In my mind, it is a good deed that we want to rescue these giant beasts as they can be hard to handle and expensive to care for, not to mention a lot of responsibility to keep groomed, so I want to go BIG or bust! We pulled in the driveway and Bash met our vehicle at the fence, he stood. He was nearly six feet tall, and his head was ENORMOUS. I was in love before I even stepped out of the car!

One of only two puppy pics, but glad to have what we have
One of only two puppy pics, but glad to have what we have

The below photos depict how unkempt he was when we met him.

Here you can see how matted his mane had become.
Here you can see how matted his mane had become.

As we entered the yard, he switched from guard dog to boisterous and welcoming! I noticed his stainless-steel food bowl hanging from a fence post, filled with kibble and rainwater. His meal was literally floating in water and debris. Sigh. I sat down in the grass, and he smothered me! That was it! We were taking him, he made me so happy, and Jake was so happy to see me so happy!

A healthy coat cools and insulates the body! An unhealthy coat can do neither of those tasks well.
A healthy coat cools and insulates the body! An unhealthy coat can do neither of those tasks well.

If he didn’t jive with the cats well, then we would foster him and find him safe haven, but we couldn’t leave him there. I remember the woman said to me, “So glad it rained so he got rinsed off for you, he was black a few days ago” (insert eye-roll emoticon here). That was enough, let’s get him in the car, I thought to myself. It was bad enough that he was completely gross to the touch, matted and orange. The car was another thing Sebastian had never experienced. We coaxed and attempted to lure him but ultimately Jake had to pick him up and swiftly close the hatch behind him. Let’s remember, Pyrs are stubborn and not easily bribed by food! The family never even said goodbye to him, in fact, as we were parting I learned that the husband wanted me to pay for him! Yea, no.

I did NOT mind this!
I did NOT mind this!
Clearly, starved for love.
Clearly, starved for love.
Our boy.
Our boy.

On the ride home I sat in the back and combed and brushed the ENTIRE drive home to Atlanta from South Carolina. I weighed the fur and I had exactly ONE POUND of fur that I had combed and brushed out of him. I was filthy when we rolled in the driveway. I was reddish and my arms were textured. He was almost white again however, and you know what? Not a single flea or flea dirt to be found!! Blown away. We needed a bath plan, it started to pour rain just as we got in the yard.

Finally got him in the car! "His people" didn't even say goodbye to him. Unbelievable.
Finally got him in the car! "His people" didn't even say goodbye to him. Unbelievable.

We took cover under our little gazebo, not that Sebastian cared, he was like, “What is this fake plastic grass and where is all of the mud?!” I went inside and got the tub ready with a bazillion towels. He tolerated us, but just this one time. He did stand up, completely erect, covered in soap in the tub! He was A LOT from day one! From that day forward, he became the first dog that was always a two-person job to bathe, all of the other four dogs I could do entirely on my own, but not these Pyr boys, they have opinions!

Looking better already! We haven't even made it home to the ATL yet!
Looking better already! We haven't even made it home to the ATL yet!
The literal ONE POUND bag of fur! It is very densely stuffed.
The literal ONE POUND bag of fur! It is very densely stuffed.
Pics of me smothering him in the car on the ride back to Atlanta, dogs love it when strange people do that! ;)
Pics of me smothering him in the car on the ride back to Atlanta, dogs love it when strange people do that! 😉
First time in the yard, drizzling rain, "I don't need a bath, I just got brushed out!"
First time in the yard, drizzling rain, "I don't need a bath, I just got brushed out!"
SPARKLING! Now, THAT is our dog!
SPARKLING! Now, THAT is our dog!

When all was said and done, Sebastian settled down on his hand me down bed in the living room and chilled. He was so calm and delightful. He was immediately respectful of the cats. Our cats were so dog savvy, they didn’t really give him a choice, “Hello pup, I’m going to rub my face on your face, and you shall stay there and like it! Signed Hitchinson!” He was home. The crate was a different story. Did I mention Pyrs are not so bribable and not always the most food motivated? We struggled for three days to get him in the giant dog crate that we always have set up in our master bedroom, 24/7/365, even if a dog doesn’t use it is a feline hospitalization center should someone need to be on an IV catheter etc. He said no, this was an insane crapshoot but we just could not get him in the crate and we did not want to close him in a room and have him chew through a door, and he was so good….it was stupid, but we left him out in the main kitchen, living, dining space where all of the dogs have had free roam, baby gates separating some of the “feline only” areas and he was an angel. He respected the baby gate. He never ever ate the wet cat food, could leave it on the floor all night and if the cats didn’t eat it all it would still be there in the morning, he didn’t eat cat poop or his own, he didn’t chase the cats or eat their toys. He never ever chewed up anything that was not a dog toy (none of our dogs did-still have all of our remote controls!) He was perfection.

"Thank you for my new puppy! I will love him and hug him and call him, Bash!" ~Hitch
"Thank you for my new puppy! I will love him and hug him and call him, Bash!" ~Hitch

The first week we were eating dinner on the sofa watching TV as many of us non-breeders do and he simply jumped over the arm of the couch, over Jake and landed right in between us and well, we suddenly had a dog we allowed on the couch. We would check in on the home cameras to find him belly up with his head on the pillows. Sometimes he would bark into the air, but not be so bothered that he had to get up. Ridiculous! This dog took in all of the comforts this home had to offer.

Even Hitch was cleaning him-Ha!
Even Hitch was cleaning him-Ha!
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An everyday scene. He was shameless.
An everyday scene. He was shameless.
He absolutely did not mind the bed either.
He absolutely did not mind the bed either.
He shared nicely.
He shared nicely.

Back when I was trying to get to know him better and asking his previous owner about his likes and dislikes I was told he likes tennis balls and milk bones. Could there have been a more standard answer? I thought to myself, guess you don’t really know him or have not offered him much. Nonetheless, I was sure to have a box of Milk bones here at the house upon is arrival. I’m a big believer in trying to give adoptees all the things they were used to, know their preferences, their nicknames, how they like to be touched and pet, so often we are never privy to this information, but sometimes people just don’t care enough to find out.

"Hello, I'm here to check in for my neuter."
"Hello, I'm here to check in for my neuter."

Bash, as he affectionately came to be called, because he bashed into things, learned to forage (no surprise), was offered a repertoire of enrichment items and was trained. He was a spectacle, and we couldn’t get through a walk without being asked, “Is that a Polar Bear?”, “What kind of dog is that?”, “How much does he weigh?”

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"Wait, that involves what exactly?"
"Wait, that involves what exactly?"
Post neuter pants. Hey, we had them for Yukon, might as well put them to use!
Post neuter pants. Hey, we had them for Yukon, might as well put them to use!

Initially, Bash was more bonded to me, I trained him, groomed him, taught him how to be part of society. But shortly after we adopted him Jake’s job changed, he was home more, walked him more, Sebastian would hang outside with Jake for hours. They became really close, and I would say that Sebastian was probably the first dog that was more Jake’s than mine.

We were still very close.
We were still very close.
We matched, his purple pants and my purple everything.
We matched, his purple pants and my purple everything.

One day, early on in his time here, Sebastian FOUND A DOG! He was freaking out at the back corner of our yard and there Jake found a brindle and white pit pup with a mangled and twisted harness hiding in our neighbors’ bushes. We thought it was so sweet and they seemed to dig each other at first…we did try to find the owner and also a home, but then we thought, well, we’ve had three before, we can manage two. Well, we could not. Was it testosterone poisoning or just a bad match, I really do not know, but these two would fight, sometimes weeks in-between the spats so we thought things would be ok, but when it happened it was really vicious, and it was all we could do to get them apart. There was blood, dog and human, and that just could not go on. We were quite fortunate to be able to find a home for Lil’ Gus, and he is still living his best life and literally has an entire room in his house filled with hundreds of tennis balls, so that worked out. Bash was into rescue but was not in to sharing his home. And perhaps that was part of it, perhaps it was all just too new, and he was finally the center of attention and he was not about to share that.

His first hike to Red Top Mountain.
His first hike to Red Top Mountain.
Obligatory selfie with the parents.
Obligatory selfie with the parents.
Daddy, my very own daddy!
Daddy, my very own daddy!
Our last hike, Fall of 2021, just didn't know it.
Our last hike, Fall of 2021, just didn't know it.

We walked, we hiked mountains, we traveled to Delaware to visit family, we cuddled with kitties, we helped out around the house, helped Jake build his workshop where all of the Fundamentally Feline action happens, we made other BIG friends and TINY friends, Sebastian made up for 2.5 years in solitude, we tried very hard to give him loads of fun experiences and a full life.

Our last hike, Fall of 2021, just didn't know it.
Our last hike, Fall of 2021, just didn't know it.
Workshop construction supervision.
Workshop construction supervision.
Protector of the sisal stash.
Protector of the sisal stash.
Little friend, Yahtzee.
Little friend, Yahtzee.
Big friend, Tuuli.
Big friend, Tuuli.
Little friend, Webster.
Little friend, Webster.

He inspired aw. He was so graceful and agile for someone so huge. Even his orthopedic doctor was blown away by his agility. So powerful, you usually do not see dogs this size jumping like this, he was not a boarder collie after all. He always gave great hugs. I would say “give me hug” and he would stand up and tightly hold his legs at my waist. He was SO TALL! He makes Sven look like Lil’ Short Stuff. Another funny trait he had was to stand completely erect at the fence. People would be coming by, and he would just stand up, he didn’t even need to lean on the fence with his paws his core was so hardcore. Hello, don’t mind my six-foot-tall dog barking at you as you pass by. Always felt safe here, no one would come in the yard with Bash here.

Couldn't upload a cool video of him jumping and climbing rock walls so just another still pic!
Couldn't upload a cool video of him jumping and climbing rock walls so just another still pic!

Freyja really loved him, she "herded" him around-hilarious!

Two beauties.
Two beauties.
I could've filled this whole post with them, they were ridiculous together.
I could've filled this whole post with them, they were ridiculous together.
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Hitchinson loved all of the dogs so much.

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Cuddling with brother, Simon.
Cuddling with brother, Simon.

Despite his menacing size, he was truly a gentle giant. Having had little to no experience with children, his instincts told him all he needed to know. If we were on a walk and there was a crying, hysterical child on the street, Bash was immediately alerted and had to go see what was wrong. This could be a little intimidating for some, but most parents welcomed his approach. He would sniff all around the child’s face, nuzzle his head up under their hand, lick their salty tears, and when the crying stopped, he was like, “My work here is done, let’s get on with the walk.” And that was it, he completely lost interest and moved on. It was really cool.

I donated my childhood stuffed animal to him. It was his doppelganger.
I donated my childhood stuffed animal to him. It was his doppelganger.

We would also call him Pouchiere (Poo cher) as if he were French. He enjoyed cheese rinds that jake would bring him from work and he would specifically bring him cheese from the region where his breed was from so it would be authentic. Yeah, guess he was kind of bougie too, but he deserved it!

Clearly, there were some clues from childhood as to how things were going to pan out for me!
Clearly, there were some clues from childhood as to how things were going to pan out for me!

I remember the day we brought Tonka home, wow, that was a NIGHTMARE of a night. Sometimes I look back on these stories and just think, “How did we mange through all of this?” Remember, we adopted Tonka because Finn needed a friend of similar age and activity level as he was too much for our existing cats, just keep that in mind as you continue to read. And this totally comes back to Bash full circle.

Preferred position the bulk of the time. Guess he felt pretty safe here.
Preferred position the bulk of the time. Guess he felt pretty safe here.

I pull in the driveway with Tonka in a carrier and I quickly run inside to set up the bathroom where all cats start their life here and Jake says, “ I think something is wrong with Sebastian, he doesn’t really want to get up”. So, I tend to Bash, try to get him to eat something special, try to get him to stand, try to see what if anything elicits a pain response, take his temperature, simultaneously on the phone with the ER, setting up a bathroom for a new cat. Shit! New cat is still in the car in a carrier! We pretty much tossed Tonka into the bathroom and had to get Bash to the ER. Jake’s closing up the porch and house so we can leave, and he can’t find Finn, what did he find? A GIANT hole in the screen on the catio! Really? So, we then turn into search and rescue mode trying to find Finn in the yard, we do, but he is crazy skiddish and practically feral at this point. We had only had him a month and he is bolting all over our yard and the neighbors’ yard. Little bond or attachment to us at this point. It finally got dark and catching him felt futile, and we had a dog that needed to go to the ER, and we needed a Have a Hart trap, so off we went.

He and Tonka became good friends too!
He and Tonka became good friends too!

Let’s recap real quick, we have a brand new cat in the house that we just set up in a room and left all alone, our other new cat, Finn, the reason we adopted Tonka is missing, and our 100# dog suddenly cannot stand up. I, of course, assume the worst based on our history and think ruptured spleen. Off to a great start to the evening, eh?

Me being briefly swallowed by Tonka and Sebastian.

At the ER we determined that Bash had some spinal pain, possibly a herniated disc but they thought nothing that needed surgery, just anti-inflammatories and pain meds and rest, ok, cool. Load up the dog, off to the clinic to get the human traps, then a stop at CVS for dinner (yes-dinner of champions!) and junky, stinky cat food for the traps, and we made it home by 3:30 AM! We ended up leaving the screen porch open, the window to Finn’s room open and I made trail of Greenies Smartbites out into the yard as well as setting the traps. It helped that Tonka vocalized and screamed his head off in the bathroom all night, I think that lured Finn in! Tonka was all, “Hi, I’m your new friend, please come back!” When I awoke at 6 am (yup) I checked the cameras and there was Finn sitting in the middle of the room looking towards the windows, content as can be with himself! I ran around the front of the house, careful not to make a peep and closed all of the doors as I moved towards his window and slammed it closed! Crisis resolved, Bash was up and walking by morning. O. M. G!!!!

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We had a few good years, five in fact, but Sebastian slipped away from us as quickly as he integrated. We had a few weirdnesses that arose in the weeks before his passing, but like so many of the others before him, labs, exams, preventative care X-rays were all normal, until they weren’t. February 23rd, 2022, we reluctantly entered the ER with him again, this time he never came home. I’m not a vet, but I know enough, and I do not feel as though I was treated professionally this time. The staff were very green and not forthcoming with the information I had to guess in order to leave with a half-hearted diagnosis. The diagnosis I guessed at was exactly what was wrong, another god damn ruptured splenic mass that had already metastasized to his liver. His abdomen was full of free fluid, and he was bleeding internally, just like our others. We cuddled him, we cried, we hand fed him what was to be his last meal and turned him over to the ER staff. I can still recall watching him walk away from me behind those doors. We came back to euthanize him the next morning and I truly regret having left him there to spend his last night alone, scared and painful amid bright lights and hecticness, knowing he would likely never come home. I hate how this ended, I absolutely hate it.

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Sebastian was our biggest boy to date. We had high hopes he would be our longest lived giant as he seemed so healthy and robust.  Great Pyrenees dogs are supposedly one of the longest lived of all of the giant breeds. When we adopted Sven, our adoption counselor told us her first Pyrs lived to be 22 and 21 years old. Sebastian was seven. We feel so cheated, but at the same time so fortunate to have known him and all that came before him. Thank you, Bash, for all of the fantastic memories, for your amazing personality, for how sweet you were protecting our kitties and our home. For absolutely everything.

Bash, Sven got your title, “Guardian of the Cats” but he has some big shoes to fill, we are working on it!

Jake and I carted his very heavy, limp body all the way home and into the house so that the cats could understand why he was gone. It is VERY IMPORTANT to allow your pets to know and understand where their friends have gone to help them with mourning. They understand the smell of death, they need to know so that they are not lost and calling for them, I find this helps immensely with combating depression and inappetence after the loss of a companion animal friend.

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Goodbye Bash.
Goodbye Bash.

Filed Under: Muses Tagged With: adoptoneuntiltherearenone, dontshopadopt, Muses, sebastian

G.G.

G.G. at the clinic, right by the door, greeting everyone.
G.G. at the clinic, right by the door, greeting everyone.

G.G. was originally named Gabrielle, but to us she was always G.G. or just simply, Geeg! Gabrielle was cute but a bit too formal for her once we got to know her. Boy oh boy, sometimes those oldies but goodies come along, and you don’t know them for very long, but they really stick with you, this could not be more true than with our little Geeg!

Gabrielle lived the first 17 years of her life as an outdoor only cat and lived outside of a local daycare center. She had kittens, made it through cold winters, blistering hot Georgia summers, survived the parking lot, and was exposed to loads of children but then the day came where the daycare facility was set to close and G.G. would no longer have someone to care for her. I do not recall why the individual that cared for her all these years could not keep her, but I feel like it was a situation where the husband said “no” to bringing her home. She was 17 years old when she came to us and became our clinic cat.

Asking for lap time from Jake,  a.k.a. buttering him up.
Asking for lap time from Jake, a.k.a. buttering him up.

Becoming an indoor only cat did not seem to be a bothersome lifestyle change for Geeg, in fact, I think she was like, “Finally, I’ve been waiting so damn long for someone to bring me in!” She would sit at the door to the clinic and look out the window but never tried to escape, she could’ve cared less. We could hold the door open, and clients would freak that she might get out and she would just sit there, like “Nope, I’m good, take your time”. Being a clinic cat with us was not all that bad. Her medical needs were met, she was immediately put on heartworm and flea prevention, started being treated for arthritis and kidney disease, you name it, we would do it. These were not “blood donor cats” that lived in cages, they were family; they were not even up for adoption because we took care of them like they were ours and we were attached.

G.G. and Mr. Seymour Crusty at the clinic.
G.G. and Mr. Seymour Crusty at the clinic.
On the exam table at the clinic, posing. She could still jump!
On the exam table at the clinic, posing. She could still jump!
Geeg, Fluff and Crust chillin' in a sunbeam!
Geeg, Fluff and Crust chillin' in a sunbeam!

Over the years the clinic cat family grew, and she had a few gentleman callers that moved in too, Mr. Seymour Crusty and Fluffy! You’ll hear their stories next! But Little Geeg was AMAZING!! She was a super sweet greeter cat, we used her for medicating lessons because she was such a compliant little lady, she had a hilarious personality and even let the kids that visited the clinic pet her and faun all over her. She was BEYOND patient. I guess all those years on the streets living among the hustle and bustle really does help make some of these cats some of the coolest. They are not quite the same when they grow up in the little bubble that is our homes, no life experience!

Playing doctor. Look at how patient she was with them!
Playing doctor. Look at how patient she was with them!
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We thought at 17 she might be a short-term commitment, but the months passed, and she kept on ticking. Clinic life was not bad to them, we had plenty of snacks, soft cushy bedding, heating pads, toys and she still played-oh you bet! But it wasn’t a home, and it was “hard” meaning that all of the surfaces are so hard. Hard floors, no carpet, soft bedding but no couch or armchair, no fireplace, none of those little luxuries. Every year for Thanksgiving our clinic would close for the week and the staff would take turns coming in to care for the three clinic cats. One year the doctor decided to travel so only two of us were left to share this responsibility. I decided that I would bring them home for the week, set them up in a room and allow them to be in a home and cozy and in turn make my life easier. Twenty-six mile commuting ONE WAY for 25 years, well let’s just say I’m WAY over it. I was over it back then, really over it now. It really ruined the “week off”, but alas, I drive for ethics.

Sunning Geeg!
Sunning Geeg!
Not dead, I swear, happy, relaxied in the sun!
Not dead, I swear, happy, relaxied in the sun!

These guys were just so chill, and so easy-going, that well, by the end of the week they were loose in the house, and no one cared! They were sleeping on dog beds by the fire, totally cool with our three large dogs, which was impressive and integrating with the cats quite nicely. Anyone want to guess what happened next? Well, we had no clinic cats after that week, I adopted all three of them! Who here is surprised, no one! I just couldn’t bring them back!

Enjoying the screened porch!
Enjoying the screened porch!
Screen porch time with her main squeeze, Mr. Crusty!
Screen porch time with her main squeeze, Mr. Crusty!

Geeg reminded us of the senior citizens that walk Lenox mall. She would make laps around our kitchen bar like “old folks at the mall”. And we’d say that to her, “You doin’ laps at Lenox again, G.G.?” It was so cute, like she was getting in her steps. She was 19 years old when I committed to her, so she was on a laundry list of umpteen number of meds and SQ fluids of course, appetite stimulants and junky cat food. So, while she totally learned to forage (that’s right naysayers-19 years old and learned to forage) she had ”room service” in her special purple bathroom. She was so in routine she would bolt ahead of us knowing it was time for her Fancy Feast! We would let her eat her junk food and then let her back out and she was quite content with this routine.

This is what we mean when we say, "Googly!"
This is what we mean when we say, "Googly!"
Cat Stoller! That's right, great activity for seniors!
Cat Stoller! That's right, great activity for seniors!

She was what Jake and I call, “googly”. Scrumptious little square muzzle and big googly eyeballs that always made her look so freakin’ cute. She also reminded us of our sweet, dear, Mammas (Asia) and swear they could have been sisters. I have a lot of terrible photos of G.G. because she never stopped moving. I have blurry side by side pics with Mammas, and all kinds of pics with half her face cut off. There are only a few good ones in this post! She was impossible to photograph. She only left us with our memories.

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She lived her for 11 months. We let her go one month shy of what was estimated to be her 20th birthday. I barely knew her three years but I gotta tell ya, she gave us a very special three years. I have video of her foraging, playing with wand toys, cuddling with the other cats. She came here to retire but she lived it up! It was my pleasure Gegeers! Glad we had the chance to know you! Once again, we were the lucky ones.

Finally, a soft sofa! She waited her whole life for this.
Finally, a soft sofa! She waited her whole life for this.
Enjoying the screen porch. No more fighting for her life, just relaxing watching birds.
Enjoying the screen porch. No more fighting for her life, just relaxing watching birds.
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Ferorcious Geeg! Complete with spooky spiders on her collar.
Ferorcious Geeg! Complete with spooky spiders on her collar.
Tortie train!
Tortie train!
Look at that little lady!
Look at that little lady!

Filed Under: Muses Tagged With: adopt one until there are none, dontshopadopt, Muses, senior cats

Albert

Professional photo shoot pics. He made it into this family just in time for this shoot!
Professional photo shoot pics. He made it into this family just in time for this shoot!

Oh dear, I’m not even sure if I should tell Albert’s full story. Albert was one of the MANY clinic cats at the first cat clinic I worked in, as you can see, that job filled up my house! I started that job with five cats, when I left, I had 16 and three dogs! Albert came to us from Cherokee County Humane Society and because he was a large, long-haired cat, ya know, he was a “Maine Coon!” No, he wasn’t. So many people think they have a Maine Coon, and I am here to tell you that most of the time you have a long-haired cat with stripes, and please ignore the “M” on the forehead, it’s an old wives tale! Lots of tabby cats have those. This is a bit of a pet peeve, no you likely do not have a Russian Blue, you have a grey Domestic Shorthair, and you know what? Your cat is still awesome and beautiful!

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But it was Albert’s looks that got him pulled out of the shelter, so good for him! He was a handsome beast in his early years, no doubt. He was brought to our clinic because he was FIV+. FIV stands for Feline Immunodeficiency Virus, and it is not a death sentence. It is spread via “extreme transmission of blood and saliva” so mostly a disease of fighting, unneutered male cats and sometimes transmitted via birth. I will not go into all of the details of the disease, but he came to us because most shelters and rescues back then were still euthanizing cats like Albert or keeping them separated from other cats. At our clinic we understood the disease and he was permitted to live freely and have friends, we had multiple FIV+ cats up for adoption and did our best to educate the public and find these guys good homes. We truly set the example and even had a bonded FIV+ pair as our greeter cats at the front desk.

Livin' the clinic life rockin' his wooly-bear phase of his lioncut.
Livin' the clinic life rockin' his wooly-bear phase of his lioncut.
At the clinic.
At the clinic.
With his new tailess sister, Peaches! OMG! How cute are they together.
With his new tailess sister, Peaches! OMG! How cute are they together.
A bit bedraggled post bath. Someone needs to be combed.
A bit bedraggled post bath. Someone needs to be combed.

Problem was, Albert never found his forever people. He was a bit of a grumpy Gus, got along with some cats but was not what you would call easy going, and he would occasionally spray. Oh, that is a fun story! One day while cleaning a bottom cage in the treatment room, he walked right up behind me, turned around and sprayed the back of me, yup, that’s right! We all had a laugh, changed my scrub top and moved on! I can’t believe I almost forgot to share this part of his story.

We liked to call this his beached whale pose! Haha!
We liked to call this his beached whale pose! Haha!

Cats with FIV have weakened immune systems, just like people with HIV. So, they succumb to things like URI’s (upper respiratory infections), gingivitis/stomatitis and often have very unhealthy mouths requiring dental cleanings and extractions and RINGWORM! The latter was Albert’s challenge. That also likely hindered his ability to find a home. As the groomer at this clinic, I was regularly in charge of his dermatological care. This involved lion-cuts, anti-fungal baths, Lyme Dips (YUM!), as well as topical and oral medications to treat the fungus and his itchies. He was amazingly tolerant of this.

Charcoal's like, "What are you doing, dude?"
Charcoal's like, "What are you doing, dude?"
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Quite the stunning coat for a cat with chronic ringworm!
Quite the stunning coat for a cat with chronic ringworm!

Albert became one of the “core” residents. We had about 15 or so cats, of the 55-60 that were up for adoption, that never really left. They got looked at, but no one ever took them home (except staff) or they lived out their life there. Mind you, life wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t a home, but it wasn’t terrible. They had cat trees and scratching posts galore! We had a HUGE screened in porch and Albert pretty much lived out there. We also had windows in every room that went straight to the floor, so they always got to look outside and get sunbeams. The bedding was ridiculous, it was not hard to find a plush place to nap. We of course had troughs of dry food for everyone (we followed the environment of plenty rule) but they got wet food EVERYDAY. For a privately owned practice with so many residents, that is pretty much unheard of. They received monthly heartworm prevention and flea control, quarterly deworming, lab work as needed and if they required it, daily meds.

He was right at home on our living room rug!
He was right at home on our living room rug!
He was quite the specimen wasn't he?
He was quite the specimen wasn't he?
Yea, he looks inebriated here. He was boozin' it up on the holiday!
Yea, he looks inebriated here. He was boozin' it up on the holiday!

When it came time for me to move on, there were two residents left that just killed me to leave behind. Charlotte (affectionately called Snarlett) I successfully placed with a fantastic family who we still see to this day! But Albert was left behind. I thought about him every day. Then I heard that the new owner of the clinic didn’t want the burden of the clinic cats and that some of them were being shipped to her other clinic to live a life in cages and be blood donor cats. The same would be true for some left behind at this office. If they were senior or had medical problems well, I feared the worse! Albert, being FIV+ was a goner in my opinion. Certainly not going to be a blood donor with FIV. This is where I should probably stop sharing but here it goes.

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Just so handsome!
Just so handsome!
I love this one, so many great captions!
I love this one, so many great captions!

I contacted my last hope at the clinic, the only one who stayed after we all abandoned the ship and told her I wanted to come get him. We planned a night for me to drive over there after work, they stayed open later than my current practice, a night when the docs were gone…She let me in the back door and I swiftly went to the grooming room, it had been my room for many years after all and I had only been gone for about two weeks. Everything was where I left it. I proceeded to fine Bert as we affectionately called him, donned my grooming apron and an anti-fungal bath was in full swing! No way I was bringing him home all gross. Now I realize bringing a cat with chronic ringworm into my house was a bit of a crazy crapshoot, but I will honestly tell you that Albert’s worm was his own special recipe. He never gave it to anyone, I never got it from him, nor did the staff, nor did any of our other pets.

So, it’s not like I broke in or anything, but it was a covert rescue mission, and it was successful!

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Bert fit in just fine here, he was used to a multi-cat environment and honestly, we had some spraying back then and that is not a deal breaker for us. Clean it up, move on. But he was a really good boy, he even meshed with the dogs. We all brought our dogs to the clinic for care, so he was no stranger to canines. But what was super cute was seeing him with Peaches!! OMG, had they both not been spayed and neutered could you imagine the amazingly cute kittens they would have had!! They were twinsies with the exception that she had no tail.

Ok, they were huge, but adorbs.
Ok, they were huge, but adorbs.

In my veterinary career, rarely have I seen a cat actually die of complications to being FIV+, in fact, I can only think of one other cat that succumbed to it specifically. FIV is not a death sentence, so many of these cats live long lives and die of something else like good old-fashioned kidney disease, but not Albert, the FIV finally got him in the end. It was really weird. His RBC count was so low at one point he really should not have been able to walk but he was still motoring around the house and still eating. We treated each and every condition as it arose, and he too was victim to my poly-pharmacy treatment protocols. He did well for a long time, but on his last days we let him out in the yard to enjoy the grass and flowers. You can see in the photos the ringworm all over his little nose and his bib is wet from constantly drinking so much. These were the “strictly indoor” days when we did not do leash and harness walks, catios or stroller rides. I always felt it was important to let them go outside in their final days and that made me think…”I bet they would have enjoyed this more when they felt better and were healthy” and so that is partially how the change began. I am now a big proponent of allowing cats safe, supervised outdoor access (if they enjoy it) as it significantly improves their quality of life. Live and learn.

Labs say he shouldn't be alive, but so strong he was still walking around the yard.
Labs say he shouldn't be alive, but so strong he was still walking around the yard.
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Bert wasn’t with us too long about 4 years or so, but I have always felt so good about going back and scooping him up even if it was a little bit of a secret mission. No one noticed he was gone, no one cared, but I did, and my caring changed Albert’s life and probably saved it too. Love you, you grumpy Gus! We always loved your spiciness!

At least he felt what is was like to be in a home, even if just for a little while.
At least he felt what is was like to be in a home, even if just for a little while.
RIP Albert.
RIP Albert.

Filed Under: Muses Tagged With: adoptdontshop, albert, dontshopadopt, Muses, rescueoneuntiltherearenone

Wheels!

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Take one look at the pics and you will see the reason for her name. Not at all striving for inappropriate but I will share that my mother used to call handicapped parking spaces wheelie cap spaces when I was a little kid. Here is the story of our delightful, Wheeliecappers! Yes, I pluralize everything, I don’t know why.

Wheels was yet another cat rescued by my former employer at the cat only vet. She found her on the side of the road on her way to or from work, I can’t recall. At the time, Wheels was a four-month-old feral, calico kitten who had been hit by a car, so obviously she brought her to the clinic to get all fixed up. Little did we know that she was not fixable, well, at least not all the way.

After a thorough exam, which Wheels pushed through but was completely baffled by all the touching, and x-rays, we learned that her back was broken. We could have euthanized her, but we didn’t, she was so full of life and healthy in every other way. This clinic had seen many miracles, we had about 45-65 clinic cats at any given time, it was the land of misfit toys where all the broken came to play. So, we decided to see if time would help and if Wheels would regain some degree of strength and ability to walk and eliminate on her own. This gave the staff lots of time to get attached to her so clearly this was the final decision. We were keeping her!

On a condo at the clinic, we put her up there so she could survey the land.
On a condo at the clinic, we put her up there so she could survey the land.
Testing out her new wheels and her new cart at the clinic.
Testing out her new wheels and her new cart at the clinic.

I took care of Wheels a lot. I became very attached to her very quickly. I may not have the desire to have human babies, but as Jake sweetly said to me one day, when he was up at the clinic and we were both assisting with an emergency C-section, “You have maternal instincts, you just use them for animals!” All the staff had to learn how to express her bladder and help her defecate, but I was always the best at it. Little did I know this would become a niche for me throughout my career. I am a master extractor of feline elimination! We did physical therapy exercises to try to help her with strength and we ordered her a specially made cart (a big deal back then) to try to help her get around! She used it, but she was a very determined little lady and would often pull herself right out of her cart and just scoot along the floor. Due to this handicap, she was built like a linebacker in the front end, so strong! This was my, and most of the staff’s, first experience with such a severely handicapped cat.

As she approached one year of age it became clear that Wheels was not going to get better, she was also not going to get adopted, so we integrated her in with all the clinic cats. It was just so sad that her friends would come and go but she always remained along with a few other pretty “unadoptable” staples. The clinic was so “hard”; the surfaces did not scream cozy for a cat like Wheels. She didn’t really use the cat condos much and most of the beds were up on something so we could easily sweep and mop each day. She scooted around that place like she was the clinics personal dust mop! She did like the office and screen porch, so we decided to make that her home base, she even learned to use the cat door.

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I always wanted to bring her home but didn’t think I could live up to the commitment. Then Lynx became diabetic, and I thought, well now I have to be here at least every 12 hours for him so maybe I could make this work? Wheels needed her urine expressed at least three times a day. She never regained the ability to eliminate on her own. I continued to remind myself that I saw her every day at work, did a lot of her care, and convinced myself it was too much. After all, did I “need” another cat? No!

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Then, there was a hurricane, a BAD hurricane. I don’t remember the names of all of these storms the way so many people do. That is just not who I am, all I know is that I got the call that a HUGE, probably 200-year-old oak tree fell on the clinic during this storm! I knew which tree and I knew just where that might hit, it was in Wheels’ room!!!! I lost it! The owner of the clinic was out of town so I, and many of the staff rushed up there to make sure everyone was ok. I found Wheels cowered under the desk wet and terrified. It had rained right into her room. I mean how much could this one little cat endure; she’s freakin’ paralyzed for Christ’s sake. It’s not like she could get away! That was it, I told Jake that we had to do it, she couldn’t live there anymore, I was bringing her home.

Loving being home on the porch.
Loving being home on the porch.
Hanging with Simon in our archaic DIY cat condo.
Hanging with Simon in our archaic DIY cat condo.
Snappy Cappers! One of a bazillion nicknames.
Snappy Cappers! One of a bazillion nicknames.
Visiting with her Auntie Bella from Sweden!
Visiting with her Auntie Bella from Sweden!

Fast forward to life at our house. She fit it swimmingly! No one made a fuss at all, what was one more at this point? She was also incredibly sweet and unintimidating so none of the other cats cared. She was so freakin’ tough, OMG, she climbed the stairs to the upstairs and would climb up on the cardboard scratcher by the window and literally throw herself onto the screened porch. She loved the porch at the cat clinic; she loved the porch at our house.

Climbed all this stuff on her own (note ramp).
Climbed all this stuff on her own (note ramp).
Favorite little mouse.
Favorite little mouse.

She had this favorite little mouse toy that I will never forget, she never really played with anything at the clinic but at the house she blossomed. I regretted waiting so long to take her home. The mouse no one else in the house cared about was her favorite thing, I put it in her shadowbox of memories. Have I mentioned how precious it is to see a little paralyzed cat crack out on a little mouse toy! Well, it is precious!

I brought her home so she would be safe, so she could feel soft things, comfort, and know what it is like to be a part of a family and have a home. Then…our house caught fire!!! Jesus Christ! What more could this cat survive? In our downsized smaller space post fire, she eve learned to forage. She and Lefty were the two I was most worried about when I moved to strictly foraging for dry food. Previously, all food was up high due to our three large dogs but I had to cave and put bowls on the floors for Wheels so she could successfully eat. No more, food puzzling began! 16 cats, three dogs, 900 square feet post house fire, and we fed wet food twice a day, had food puzzles for the cat’ dry and the dogs didn’t destroy them all. It can be done; I’ve lived it and I am here to tell you it can be managed…with some creativity.

At the clinic post fire-note sooty paws.
At the clinic post fire-note sooty paws.
Temp housing post fire with Simon.
Temp housing post fire with Simon.
Post fire accomodations working for her just fine.
Post fire accomodations working for her just fine.

Wheels was not with us long and we haven’t a clue what happened to her. I have been haunted by the fact that my attempts to help her stretch and feel her best may have done something inside. Who knows, she could have further injured herself just doing her Wheels thing, maybe from tossing herself out the screen porch window or getting up and down from her cat condo and not using the ramp daddy so nice made just for her! Something happened where her stomach and bowels stopped digesting/moving, it was like she became more paralyzed. It happened super quickly, and I will spare you the gory details of her passing, but it was gross and sad. I still live with the feeling it was my fault. Maybe it was for the best that she didn’t get old and arthritic as that would have certainly been hard on her.

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I will leave you with the little blurb I put in Wheels’ shadowbox of memories, complete with favorite mousy. It references her Auntie Molly’s little “Wheels on the Bus” song she used to sing to her when she would pet sit. And, how great is it to have such a good friend that she learned to expressed BOTH of your paralyzed cats while you went home to visit the fam? Just wow, thanks Auntie Molly!

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I was so proud of you,

And so proud to have had the privilege to care for you.

I never resented the responsibility; but rather embraced it.

You were an amazing soul, so strong and so persevering.

No car, hurricane or fire could slow you, certainly no physical obstacle.

I have learned so much from you, I only hope I gave you enough in return.

The wheels on the bus go ‘round, as do, I suppose, the wheels of life.

You will be missed more than you could ever know.

I love you.

I am sorry.

 

I still have her cart…her “wheels”.

My favorite picture of her, we didn't really have that many.
My favorite picture of her, we didn't really have that many.
Rest in feline power sweet Snappy Caps!
Rest in feline power sweet Snappy Caps!

Filed Under: Muses Tagged With: adoptdontshop, dontshopadopt, handicapped cats, special needs cats, Wheels

Iittala (Tallas)

jake 071 (Copy)
On sofa, first few days home.
On sofa, first few days home.

Tallas, is what we most often called her. She was given to me by a previous employer as my Christmas bonus one year. My employer said, “You have rescued so many, you deserve to have your one dream cat” knowing I would never buy an animal. But you see, I had already started to learn that my dream cats came in many colors and from many different walks of life, just look at who had come before her. This was quite the double-edged sword for me and the staff at the office. We saturated ourselves in rescue cats, our homes and the workday were nothing but cats, cats, cats, and most of them in critical need of help and a home. But what was I to do or say? I was ecstatic when I met Tallas, so much so that I think I scared the crap out of here with my enthusiasm over her cuteness. I felt terribly guilty but of course kept her and cared for her despite the controversial circumstances that brought her to me.

Iittala (pronounced e-talla) was a purebred, silver Maine Coon. We named her after a Finnish crystal company. I am Scandinavian and used to work for a Scandinavian import store and we carried this brand of crystal. I thought she looked icy and wintery, so I wanted her name to reflect that. I have always been in awe of “silver” animals, the fact that mother nature makes them, it’s just remarkable to me. A Maine Coon was one of my dream cats, and someone wanted to help me fulfill that dream and that is how she came to me.

I just love this pic, stunning.
I just love this pic, stunning.
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Classic pose for her, loved to dangle her legs.
Classic pose for her, loved to dangle her legs.
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Iittala confirmed what I already knew to be true, adopt in pairs. She was the last of her litter and while we had 16 other cats at the time, she was overwhelmed adjusting to the household. I think it may have been easier for her if she had had a buddy to ease the transition. Her addition was also was the first time we went to 17 cats, which proved to be a bad omen number for us three times over. Every time we hit 17, someone passed away. Sixteen was the “sweet spot” and we stayed there for a long while (about 12 years, actually).

Me and Tallas on deck (Copy)

She was a little spitfire of a kitten, and she did not like to be groomed which was a challenge, just look at that coat! I was really looking forward to being her hairstylist, but Tallas was more of a Tomboy and preferred no grooming!

She was hilarious and got along with the dogs really well too. She really embraced the feline accommodations, which compared to all we have now, feels like they were living in squalor back then!

The new baby. Note my adopt a cat t-shirt, the irony.
The new baby. Note my adopt a cat t-shirt, the irony.
Despite her hatred for grooming, I think we mainatained her coat pretty well!
Despite her hatred for grooming, I think we mainatained her coat pretty well!
Doggy headbutts. This was her with Grant.
Doggy headbutts. This was her with Grant.
Little supermodel here.
Little supermodel here.
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I remember when the house caught fire, she was the only one I couldn’t find and the only one I did not have a carrier for. I found her in the one hooded litter box I had (offering choice for those who wanted it!) She was covered in drool and very sooty. I scooped her up and took her out to the car, no carrier, nada, she did just fine on the way to the clinic for the bathe-a-thon of everyone which later ensued.  Since then, I have always ensured I have one carrier per cat, no exceptions.

Paper bag fun!
Paper bag fun!
Would you look at that tail! Talla Tails!
Would you look at that tail! Talla Tails!
Even fancy ladies like boxes and bags!
Even fancy ladies like boxes and bags!
Hanging with her friends on the screen porch.
Hanging with her friends on the screen porch.
Loving the porch!
Loving the porch!

She was very present in the home and pretty much lived on the kitchen counters, table, and adjacent cat condo. She enjoyed height, surveying her land like the queen she was. She was a part of everything. I diligently marinate cat toys and she loved that chore. I would clean all of the cat toys (still do) and marinate them in different scents, she was front and center inspecting them and making sure I was performing this task correctly. Her favorite was a little, refillable/stuffable hedgehog.

All the toys!!!
All the toys!!!
jake 466 (Copy)
She loved to be up high and survey her kingdom.
She loved to be up high and survey her kingdom.
jake 134 (Copy)
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Iittala lived a VERY short life. We lost her at the age of six. One September, Sunday morning I was freshening food bowls and dishing up wet food breakfast, this was before the days of 100% food puzzles. She was eating from a bowl of dry food on the kitchen counter, I went upstairs to put down the upstairs food bowls, came back down to the kitchen and she was lateral on the kitchen floor. I yelled for Jake! All I could think was that she was choking on a piece of kibble! I stuck my fingers down her throat but couldn’t find anything, I started to frantically compress her chest. Then I decided I needed an airway and Jake swiftly took apart a Bic pen so I could place it as an emergency trach tube! Called our vet, gave her breaths, no dice. She was gone in the blink of an eye. If she didn’t choke on food then I thought, it must’ve been her heart. Maine Coon cats are known to have heart problems. I was still in the “need to know” stage and we did a quick autopsy at work and found nothing at all unusual. I couldn’t bring myself to ship off her whole body so we sent only her heart to UGA and the results came back normal. Now there is a regret! I cremated her without her heart, just a horrible feeling every time I think about it. She was the last pet I ever autopsied. I know enough now to hypothesize why they died even if I do not have an exact cause of death, and I have decided I just do not want to cut them up to find out more.

Her urn is, you guessed it, a beautiful piece of Iittala crystal, complete with her little stuffed hedgehog.

Filed Under: Muses Tagged With: dontshopadopt, Maine Coon Cat, Muses

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